When You're Gone, Where Do I Go?
by XxLostxXxLovexX
Summary: It Was Friday, November Twenty-Third. Year? 2002. Five Years After We Meet, And Fell In Love. Place? That's Easy. Wherever You Wanted To Be. Because Today? No One Was Truly Sitting In This Funeral Home. We're All Somewhere Else. Remembering.
1. The Other Boy

Chapter One.

'Girl!' I Heard Being Yelled From Down The Hallway, As Marc? Yes I Think That's His Name, Stuck His Head Out Of My Bedroom Doorway. 'I Called Your Name. Come Here.'

'Actually. You Didn't Call My Name. Do You Even Remember My Name?' _Cause I Can't Remember Yours. _I Added In My Head, As I Walked To The Room.

'Aww, Huney. Don't Go Ruining This By Bringing Up Names. I Don't Care If You A Jodi, A Barbra, Or A Sue. As Long As You're In Be, That Will Do.'

John Doe Was Finally Standing In Front Of Me. A Full Six Feet, Two Inches Tall. Hazel Eyes. Blondish-Brownish Hair. A Perfect Copy Of Him. Except They Were Different Still. _Something About Them Was Different. You'd Think, If I Could Find Someone Who Looked Just Like Him, They'd Be The Same. No. Their Personalities. He'd Never Tell Me Names Didn't Matter. He'd Never Say He Wanted Me Just In Bed, Unlike This Guy. John Doe, Was Not Him. And That's All That Mattered._

'Please Leave,' I Mumbled Under My Breath. 'Just Go. You're Not Him.'

John Doe, I Probably Should've At Least Made A Effort To Learn It, Smiled At Me With An Evil Grin. 'What Did You Say, Dear?' Thank Goodness He Didn't My Last Comment.

I Spoke As I Took A Step Back, 'I Said, Please Leave. This Isn't Your Home. We Did What You Wanted To Do. Here Leave Your Number, And I'll Call You Next Time I Need This Again.'

He Took A Step Forward. I Took One Back. 'Hey, Now Let's Not Be Rushing Things. How About Next time You Need It, Go To the Bar We Met At And Ask For Phoenix. Okay? No Numbers Yet.'

'Okay. That Sounds Like A Plan. I'll See You Sometime.' I Said As He Stepped Around Me And Left.

_They Looked So Much Alike. Why? Why Does The Personality Matter? He's Gone. He's Gone, And There's Nothing I Can Do About It. Not My Fault. Get A Hold Of Yourself Girl. Date Blonde Haired Blue Eyes Guys From Now On. Obviously Guys Who Look Like Him, Aren't Him._

And That Thought Made Me Fall To The Floor. Curl Up Into A Little Ball. And Cry.


	2. Lost Letters

As I Woke Up About Two Hours Later, On Thing Came To Mind. _I Was Alone. All Alone. No One Else. _jI Turned To the Clock. Three Pm On A Saturday Afternoon. What To Do?

_Well The House Could Always Use Some Extra Cleaning? Or I Could Go For A Jog? Or I Could Make Dinner For The Neighbors? And The Team? No. The Laundry. I Haven't Done It Since… A While. I Should Do It Now. But First, I'll Check The Mail. I Can Do That. It's Five Yards Out Side Of My House. I Can walk There, Grab It And Come Back._

I Locked My Door And Walked Outside. It Was December Sixteenth, 2002, Now. And It Was Snowing. The Neighbors' Dog Was Outside, And Barking At My Presence. I Used To Believe Boxie Was Just Crazy. She Barked All The Time At Random Things. And It Drove Me Crazy. I Now Believe She Just Senses Stuff We Can't.

The Boxer Kept Barking As I Walked Across The Street. It Was Still Weird To Have To Do That. I Guess After Living In An Apartment For More Than Five Years Has Gotten Me So Used To Have The Mailbox Inside, That The Three Months I've Been Living Here, Hasn't Changed It.

We Moved In Together Three Months Ago. You Know. To Save Gas And Money And Stuff. And So We Could Work On Cases Together. Nothing But Professional. Then Things Happened. And It Went Bad. Point Is, I Moved Out Of My Tiny Apartment To Come Live In An Actual House With Tony. And Now I Live Here Alone. And I Pay Bills Alone. And Take Care Of It Alone. And Sleep Alone. Twenty Three Days Later, And It's Still Hard.

As I Reach Into The Mail Box, My Hand Encounters A Huge Pile Of Mail. I Haven't Gone Out To Get The Mail Since November Twenty Third. And It Sure Was Pilling Up.

_I Refuse To Look At It Till I'm Inside. I Refuse. Inside I'm Warm, Alone, And Okay. Inside I'll Do It. It's Not That Hard, You Sit Down, Flip Through, And Pick One. Then You Open It And Read It. It Will Be Okay._

I Pulled Out The Wooden Stool And Sat At The Bar. I Put The Pile In Front Of Me And Grabbed The First One. Blah Blah Blah. Just Insurance Stuff. Next Three Were All Bills. Then Came The I'm Sorry Ones. The Further Into The Pile, The Older They Got. Most People Have Learned To Stop Sending Stuff For Tony Here, But You Occasionally Get Some Who Didn't Get The Memo.

I Picked One Up That Said His Name Across The Front In Pen.

_"Dear Anthony,_

_I Am So Sorry That I Couldn't Get Back To You Sooner. You Know How Work Has Been. And Maria, My Current Girl, Has Been Feeling Bad Lately. But I Got Your Last Message And There's Some Things We Need To Discuss Before You Go Through With This. Okay?_

_ One, The Most Important, Are You Sure She's The One? I Mean Moving In Is Really A Big Step For You Tony, But You Have To Think. Us DiNozzos, Well, We Don't Like Settling Down. Are You Sure You Could Do This Whole Marriage Thing? The Whole-House, Marriage, Work, Kids, Grandkids, Retire, Beach House, Great Grandkids-Thing? And Without Looking At Another Girl?_

_ Two, Did You Buy The Ring Yet? You Mentioned You Had One Picked Out. Will It Be Something She'll Like? Have You Two Even Talked About The Future? What About Work? How Would Gibbs Feel About Your Love For Each Other? Or Would You Not Tell Him? Are You Even Sure She Loves You Back? And You Can't Do It. I Know You, Anthony. You'll Risk Your Life For Hers. And That's Not Acceptable In Your Job Line."_

I Had To Stop. I Couldn't Continue. _Did Tony Really Love Me? Did He Really Want To Have Kids? And Who Would He Talk To About All This? _One Glance Down Told Me Everything.

_ "Anthony DiNozzo Senior."_

_Why Of Corse! Who Else Would He Turn To For Info About Feelings? He Couldn't Turn To Sweet, Kind, Caring McGee? He Had To Go To His Cold, Ridged Father. Of Corse! Sometimes Tony Does-_

There Was A Sudden Loud Knock That Brought Me Back To Reality.


	3. The Visitors

Okay. So I'll Start Off With The Fact That I Hate Authors Who Put An Author Note On Every Chapter. It's Like 'Cool. I Get It. I Don't Wanta Read About Your Life, OR Your Expectations, Or Your Love Life. I Wanta Read The Story. That's Why I Clicked On It.'

But Then Again, I Hate Authors Who Never Put An Author Note. So I Decided I'm Doing This. I'll Ether Post An Author Note Every Third Chapter, Or When I Post A Chapter Late. So Then You See Why It's Late. And How Sorry I Am. And then You Can Also Get Where I Go The Motivation For This From. Okay? Okay. Deal? Deal. Spit Shake On It? Okay, Now, Sam, You're Just Getting Weird.

So Basically The Only Reason This Is Late Is Because:

I Have School, Stage Crew, Mock Trial, Page Turners, And Art Club. Then Homework And College Applications. And Let's Not Forget Babysitting.

Daddy Decided That I Could Go For Four Days Without Internet. So He Took It Upon Himself To Delete The Internet Off My Laptop. Yell At Him. Not Me. =D

So On That Note… Here's The Chapter I Owe You. =P

P.S. I'm Sorry That I Capitalize Every Word. It's A Bad Habit. And I Know I Do It. So Telling Me In Reviews? Yeah It's Not Necessary. In Fact That's One Of My Pet Peeves. And If I Get More Reviews About It, They Will Be Deleted. =D Thank You. Have A Wonderful Night!

I Opened The Drawer On My Bar, And Pulled Out The Gun We Always Kept Just For Safety Reasons. No One Came To Visit Me Anymore, So Better Be Safe Than Sorry. As I Opened The Door I Gasped. McGee And Abby Stood Before Me. Holding Hands. The Gun, Which Was Raised, Fell To My Side As I Just Stood There.

'Abby. McGee. Hey.'

'Ziva, Oh Ziva. Look At You! You Look Like Death Rolled Over!' Haha Abby. Real Funny.

'Umm… Would You Like To Come In? I Mean The House Is A Mess, And There's Clothes Everywhere, But Then You Could At Least Sit Down, And Get Out Of The Cold.'

They Looked At Each Other As If They Were Surprised. McGee Cleared His Throat. 'Yes, Ziva. That'd Be Very Wonderful.'

I Stepped Backwards To Let Them In, And Closed The Door Behind Them. Once We Got Into The Living Room, And Seated, The Questions Began.

'How Are You?'

'How's Work?'

'Why Aren't You Ever At Work Anymore?'

'Twenty Three Sick Days?'

'How's The Family?'

The More Questions Came Out, The Harder The Answers Were.

'Have You Talked To Gibbs?'

'Have You Seen Mr DiNozzo Lately?'

'How's Home Been?'

'Any Love Interests?'

'Did You Know They Cleaned Out His Desk?'

'Oh How Ducky Misses You. Everyone Misses You. Will You Come Back Soon?'

'None Of His Stuff Is There. It Won't Be As Hard. Please? Please Come Back?'

'When Was The Last Time You Cleaned?'

'Gosh Ziva! Personal Hygiene. Ever Hear Of It?'

Eventually Abby Excused Herself To Use The Lavatory. And Everything Between Me And McGEe Got Quiet And Awkward.

'Ziva? Can You Come Here?' Abby's Voice Came Out Of Nowhere.

'Yeah Sure. Be Right There.' I Finished Pouring Tim's Drink, Handed It To Him, And Then Went To My Bedroom.

'Abbs? Where Are You?'

'Right Here!'

I Entered The Bathroom And Saw Abby Holding The Only Picture Still In My House.

'Who Is He? He Looks Familiar.'

'Abby, He Should Look Familiar. That's… That's… That's Him. The Last Picture Taken Of Him. The Last Picture Taken Of Us.' The Tears That I've Been Holding Back Their Whole Visit, Finally Fell.

Abby's Arm Went Around My Waist, McGee Came In, To See What The Noise Was About, And His Hand Went On My Shoulder. I Slowly Bent Over And Fell To The Floor. For The Second Time Today.

Next thing I Know, I'm Being Carried. McGee Laid Me Down On The Bed And Abby Sat Next to Me Stroking My Hair And Listening To My Cries. I Could See Her Silently Crying Herself.

McGee Held Her Hand As We Talked About How Much We Missed Him. And How Much It Hurts. About How Time Heals All Wounds Is A Lie. And How There Will Never Be Anyone Else with The Same Movie References That He Always Had.

As I Rolled Over, I Caught Sight Of The Clock. Eight P.M. 'Abby? McGee? I'm Not Keeping You From Anything? Am I?'

Abby Shook Her Head As McGee Spoke. 'No. Of Corse Not! The Only Other Place We Go Is Work. And Gibbs Gave Us The Day Off.'

I Couldn't Stop The Gasp That Came Past My Lips. 'Gibbs? The Same Gibbs I Know? Gave You The Day Off? How'd You Manage That?'

'Well, McGee Told Gibbs It Was A Family Situation. And I Just Told Gibbs That There Was No Case, And Plus I Wanted To See You. He Agreed Right Away. He Even Told Me To Say Hi To You.'

'Well… That's Nice Of Him…'

McGee Cleared His Throat. 'Have You Thought About It At All? Coming Back, I Mean.'

'Truth Be Told, I Almost Think It Might Be Too Hard. Sitting There. And Him Not There…'

Abby Shook Her Head, Again. 'The First Time, It's A Shocker. But The More You Go By His Desk, The More You Get Used To It. Like You're Mind Will Always Process That He's Not Sitting There, Hitting On You, Ziva. Or Taking Pictures For That Stupid Internet Beat Each Other Game, But Eventually You Train Your Mind To Accept It. To Accept That He Is Not, And Will Not, Be Sitting There.'

McGee Cleared His Throat. 'Abby.'

'No McGee. I Need To Hear This. Go On Abby. How's It Like? Want Me To Tell You How It's Like To Eat Alone? Sleep Alone? Drive To Work Alone? And Then Everywhere You Go, Be Reminded You're Alone? Huh? Want Me To? I Get It. He's Not Here. He's Not At Work. And He's NEVER Going To Be At Ether Of Those Places Again. Thank You. But I Get The Point.'

Tears Flooded Down Abbs' Face. McGee Grabbed Her Hand And Spoke Up. 'Ziva. She Was Just Trying To Help. You Haven't Left Your House In What? Twenty Three Days? You Look Horrible! You're Acting Horrible! And You're Treating Us Horribly!' His Voice Got Softer, Slower, Like He Was Talking To A Kid. 'Ziva. You're Not the Only One Who Lost Him. We All Loved Him.'

'You Loved Him. Everyone Loved Him. I Get That.' Tears Got Into My Mouth, And Made It Hard to Speak, 'But No One, Not ONE Single Person, Loved Him Enough To Safe Him. And It's All Our Faults. He Trusted Us! And We Let Him Down! We Should've Died. Not Him.'

Abby Grabbed My Hand, 'Ziva?'

'He Was Gonna Propose To Me. We Were Gonna Have Kids. And A Family. And A Nice House. And A Wonderful Life. And We Would've Grown Old, And Died Together. I Hate That That Will Never Happen.'


End file.
